Loran sat on the edge of the bed in his room, a mana crystal held between his fingers.
He suddenly recalled the scene seven years ago when he first met Chloe in that castle in North Yankton.
It had been a winter night just like this one, though the snow had fallen even harder back then.
The somewhat empty castle was bathed in cold colors. Loran had followed a maid through the chilly corridors… and then he met Chloe.
The young girl was curled up on the massive four-poster bed in her bedroom, her silver hair spilling down like shattered moonlight. Her face was deathly pale, her lips tinged with a bruised purple. Her eyes were wide but lacked focus, containing nothing but numbness.
A painful numbness.
Back then, Chloe had truly looked like someone possessed.
Violent mana rampaged through her body, frantically battering against that fragile barrier.
Methods to alleviate a mana berserk state were not unheard of in this world. The mages from the Royal Capital had come, and the priests and paladins from the Holy See had come as well. Their proposed solution was simple… sever the magic circuits to solve the problem at its root.
But that would mean Chloe would become a broken person, an ordinary human unable to use even the most basic magic. Coupled with her status as an orphan of the Lyfinius family, it would be a fate little better than death in a world that measured almost everything by strength.
However… besides that method, there was only one other path: external guidance.
It sounded simple, but performing it was as difficult as reaching the heavens. People who could withstand that kind of mad, tyrannical mana were almost nonexistent. Such power would easily tear a normal mage’s magic circuits to shreds and burn out their nerves, leaving them either brainged-dead or a charred corpse.
But as it happened, Loran—who had returned from his first life—could do it.
The traits of a Mystic gave his magic circuits extraordinary resilience and capacity. Combined with his extremely high mana affinity, he became the only candidate capable of enduring that tyrannical power.
Loran remembered it clearly. That night, he had stood before the Grand Duke and spoken very bluntly.
“If we do this, there will inevitably be some intimate contact between us.”
His face had been expressionless when he said it.
“I am not trying to take advantage of her in her moment of weakness. This is a necessary part of the process.”
The Grand Duke remained silent for a long time.
The man who had once commanded the winds and clouds sat in his chair, the candlelight casting deep shadows across his face. He looked toward the Silver Pine Forest shrouded in wind and snow, then back at his daughter curled in pain on the bed, and finally nodded.
“…As long as you can make her better.”
The Grand Duke’s voice had been raspy and exhausted.
Chloe herself had agreed.
The girl forced herself to sit up, her sweat-soaked silver hair sticking to her pale cheeks. She looked at him with eyes that had lost focus due to the pain.
Her lips moved slightly, and the sound she made was as light as a sigh.
“Do it.”
And so, that night, in Chloe’s bedroom, under the glow of the fireplace and candlelight, Loran touched her for the first time.
That violent mana surged into his body like a flood breaching a dam, rampaging through his circuits as if trying to tear everything apart.
It was a long and painful process for both of them.
Chloe trembled with pain, her fingers digging into his arm as if trying to bury themselves there, while Loran felt as though every inch of his nerves was being scorched.
Finally, the violent mana subsided.
Chloe went limp in his arms. Her breathing steadied, and the agony on her face gradually faded. She opened her eyes, and though her jewel-like irises were still misted with moisture, they could now reflect his equally exhausted face.
“She’s fine for now, but from now on, we’ll need to perform this guidance once every interval.”
That was the first time Chloe had been able to get a good night’s sleep.
Later, the Grand Duke mentioned more than once that he wanted Loran to marry into the Lyfinius family. Even if that wasn’t possible, he insisted on granting him the family name, hoping he would stay by Chloe’s side forever.
Thinking back now, perhaps the seeds of ambiguity had been quietly planted then, until a few nights ago in the living room by the warm fire, when Chloe kissed him.
Since then, the relationship between the two seemed to have become even more subtle.
At first, he only hoped she would survive so he could complete his mission. Later, he hoped she would suffer less. Then, he hoped she would gain control over her own power. And after that…
Humans are greedy creatures, always unconsciously craving more.
—
The sunlight was pleasant the following morning.
Ophelia came over to play with Chloe. Following instructions, Alia set up a chessboard in the study and turned to brew some black tea.
The chess pieces were carved from ivory and ebony. Ophelia chose the black side first. As she arranged her pieces on the board, her eyes flickered toward Loran, who was sitting on the nearby sofa.
“Let’s get one thing straight. Given what happened back at the frozen lake, Mr. Loran cannot provide Chloe with any outside assistance today.”
Ophelia spoke with her chin tilted up.
Chloe was looking down, adjusting her white Queen. Hearing this, she lifted her eyelashes and gave a soft, “Mhm.”
Loran gave her a helpless smile, then watched the two girls sit across from each other to begin their game. He stood up to slice some fruit in the kitchen, placed the arranged fruit plate on the small side table, and returned to his seat to pick up his book again.
Though he appeared to be reading, Loran was actually looking at the small iron book in his consciousness.
The pages turned silently in his mind. He needed to hurry and learn the new spells added there. Additionally, he needed to filter through them for ones suitable to teach Chloe.
He had already tested Ophelia’s depth; next, he needed to find a time to measure Chloe’s progress.
At that thought, Loran lifted his gaze from the mental pages and let it fall on Chloe’s profile. The girl was staring intently at the board, her finger hovering over her Bishop, hesitating to make her move.
In a few days, Atlas Academy would begin its new term.
According to the plot, at most, Loran could only stay for one year. But so many miscellaneous things had happened recently that he felt he might only be able to enjoy his academy life for half a year at most.
Consequently, he didn’t share the same level of anticipation for the start of school as the others.
A crisp click sounded on the board as Ophelia moved a piece forward, but Chloe’s gaze drifted from the board toward Loran.
Ophelia noticed. She arched a brow slightly and leaned toward Chloe, speaking in a playful tone only the two of them could hear.
“Chlo… did something happen between you and him? Why are you always so distracted?”
Chloe’s fingers froze. She stared at the board, her face expressionless, but the tips of her ears quietly turned a faint red.
“No, nothing happened.”
Ophelia tilted her head, clearly unconvinced. Her finger lightly tapped her black King.
“Is that so? But the way you looked at him just now is different from how it used to be.”
Chloe didn’t answer, merely staring at the board in silence.
Then, her white Queen swept across the board, cutting into the black formation at an incredible angle. The ivory-carved Queen traced an arc through the morning light, and everywhere it went, the black pieces fell one after another.
Finally, Ophelia’s King went flying. The expressionless Chloe used her Queen to literally kick the piece off the board. The King rolled across the floor several times before coming to a stop.
Ophelia’s jaw dropped. She looked at her empty throne and then back at Chloe. She blinked, as if she hadn’t yet registered what had happened.
Chloe simply smoothed out her skirt. Her expression was calm, perhaps even a bit cold.
“I win,” she said.